A Day In Eternity
by Saralonde
Summary: Takes off at the end of AWE. Once again, Jack is left without a ship. But at least, he got an old friend back. That has to count for something, right? Will they get the Black Pearl and find the Fountain of Youth together? Jack/Anamaria
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: PotC and all characters belong to Disney. I do not own anything.

+o+o+

Jack stumbled upon her in the Faithful Bride. Quite literally. He was drunk, moaning the loss of his beautiful ship, and she was in his way.

It took him a moment to realise what his boot had gotten caught in. At first, he was only glad about the fact that the person seemed in a worse condition than him and in no way able to fight him for the kick. Then, he noticed the long, black hair, the olive skin and finally, the facial features so familiar to him.

Jack raised his eyebrows as he kneeled down next to Anamaria. She could hold her liquor well and in all the years he knew her, he had never seen her in such a state.

With a sigh, he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"You're not going to slap me, are you?"

Anamaria answered with a moan.

"Thought so."

The room swayed as Jack straightened up. He almost lost his balance but caught himself at the last moment. Damn, this was not how he had intended to spend the night. He had come to the Faithful Bride to get drunk, so drunk that he'd forget about Barbossa having stolen his ship – again – and then seek some pleasurable company. Not Scarlett or Giselle, they hadn't been too happy when they had abandoned him at the docks, but someone new. Someone he didn't know yet.

Definitely not Anamaria.

With a sigh, he carried her up the stairs to his room. He sighed again as he took in the small space. The chest, not even large enough to hold his boots. The bed squeezed into a corner.

The only bed.

"You're going to pay for this in the morning, luv," he told his former first mate as he lowered her on the bed. For a moment, he considered going back downstairs, then heard Anamaria retch. She barely even turned her head before the vomit came out. An image of her suffocating on her half-digested dinner came to his mind and he sighed for the third time in five minutes.

"Ana, what have you gotten yourself into this time?"

+o+o+

Jack woke up to the woman's soft snores. Daylight filtered through the tiny window. It didn't surprise him that Anamaria was still asleep. The night on the floor had been rough, so he woke up earlier than usual, and she'd had so much alcohol that she'd probably sleep on for hours. Just why on earth had she gotten that drunk?

Jack shook his head, knowing that asking himself these questions would bring him nowhere, and prepared himself to get some breakfast. He'd be back by the time she woke up.

Apparently, Anamaria wasn't one for sleeping in, not even when she was drunk. Jack should have known, they'd known each other for a long time and she'd sailed on the Black Pearl for many months.

+o+o+

When he came back to his room, the bed was empty.

Jack whirled around and checked behind the door, just to make sure that she wasn't hiding there to slap him, but he didn't find anybody.

He shrugged. Anamaria was a grown woman, she could do whatever she pleased to do. She'd decided to leave the Pearl, so she wasn't even a member of his crew and he owed her nothing. But she was his friend and as much as Jack tried to push the thought from his mind, he knew that he cared about her.

Oh well. Nothing to do about that at the moment. Maybe she'd show up at the Faithful Bride again this evening, maybe he'd cross paths with her elsewhere in Tortuga. It wasn't that large a place and Jack had other things to worry about.

Things like the Black Pearl, which had sailed away with Barbossa.

He took out the charts from under his coat and was just about to unroll them, when the door flew open.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

An accusing finger pointed into Jack's face. He tried to dive down, but he wasn't fast enough to avoid the slap that followed.

"You should have woken me up. They've left without me."

Jack shook his head a little, his cheek stinging from her palm, and turned back to face her.

"How about 'hello Jack, it's nice to see you?' Or maybe 'Thank you, Jack, for getting me out of that hell when I was too drunk to do so myself?'"

He caught her hand this time and smirked.

"I see you haven't lost your spirit. That's at least one thing."

His eyes travelled down her body and she understood what he was referring to.

"Rough times," she said as her only reply, as if that would explain why she had gotten so skinny in the last couple of months. Why her eyes were bloodshot and she looked as if she hadn't eaten for weeks.

Jack let her get away with it. She was a pirate, just like himself, he knew how life could be splendid at one moment and turned upside down at the next.

Like it had just happened to him.

Only with the difference that he knew Barbossa would come back for the charts.

"And now your captain left without you."

For a moment, Jack thought she was going to slap him again. But he still held her hand and was prepared to catch the other one. What he hadn't expected, though, was her getting slack in his grip and hunching over.

He let her go as she headed for the bed, sat down and rubbed her face.

"He wasn't a good captain, anyway. But you know how it is for me."

Anamaria wouldn't pronounce it in front of him, but Jack knew what she was talking about. Problems finding a ship. Gibbs wasn't the only superstitious sailor in these waters.

"Well, good thing you have me, then. I'm an excellent captain, luv."

"And you don't have a ship."

Jack hadn't expected that, but it didn't surprise him. News travelled fast in Tortuga.

"Ah, just a small obstacle we'll overcome in no time." He waved the remark away. "And then we're going for the Fountain of Youth. Are you in?"


	2. Chapter 2

"I heard rumours, Jack. Rumours about your death."

Anamaria's voice was so quiet, her words were barely audible above the wind. Jack tilted his head slightly, his eyes still on the ocean in front of him, nothing in his stance betraying that she had his full and undivided attention.

"People said that Davy Jones chased you."

Jack waved his hand and finally turned to look at her. "Did they, now?"

"They said that you had disappeared to Davy Jones' locker."

Jack nodded slowly.

"Well, they've obviously forgotten one important detail then." His face turned into a wide grin. "I'm –"

"You're Captain Jack Sparrow, I know," Anamaria interrupted him. Even if Jack had not been looking at her, he could have heard from the tone of her voice that she was rolling her eyes. "I thought you had died."

Jack winced at the accusation in her voice. He opened his mouth to make a joke out of the situation, then caught the murderous look in her eyes.

"Maybe I have. Rough times. You know all about them, don't you?"

Anamaria huffed and pulled her knees closer to her chest.

"This is not about me, it's about you. How did you make it back?"

Jack had almost forgotten how persistent she could be. But two could play this game.

"It's as much about you as about me. I've got a story to tell, you've got one to tell. To me, it seems only fair if we both share."

He was almost disappointed when she turned her head away from him and looked out at the sea without further comment. Not that he had been keen on sharing details about Davy Jones' locker. But he was curious about Ana's story and what had happened to her. Ever since he knew her, she'd been able to care well for her. Looking that thin and worn out was new, and it didn't suit her at all.

"Shouldn't the Pearl be back by now?" she asked, pronouncing exactly what had been going through Jack's head for a while now. It was the seventh day of waiting on this cliff just outside Tortuga. Even if Barbossa, being the lousy Captain he clearly was, didn't check the charts daily, he should have noticed the loss by now.

Jack's face contorted into a frown and relaxed a second later.

"There she is."

It was only a small dot at the horizon, but Jack would have recognised her from even further away. She was his ship, his freedom, his ticket to go wherever he wanted to. He had raised her from the depths of the ocean, recovered her from Barbossa and brought her back from the locker. There was no way he was going to lose her again.

"Come with me." Jack stood up and took Anamaria's sleeve, pulling her into the jungle behind them. "Barbossa will expect me to wait for him, so we better hide for when they come close enough to see us with a spyglass."

Jack's whole plan depended on the fact that Barbossa didn't see him out here. As far as he was concerned, his former first mate didn't know that Jack knew about the secret anchoring point three clips west of Tortuga. Only ships as shallow as the Pearl could stay here and Jack had known that Barbossa would choose this bay.

He would have.

He would have chosen any place where the Pearl could be safe long enough to get to the Faithful Bride and negotiate, and he guessed that was exactly Barbossa's plan.

"Go and get Gibbs," Jack told Anamaria.

He watched her retreating form, not having missed the raise of eyebrows just before she had turned around. With a sigh, he leaned against a tree. Anamaria knew exactly what was going through his head, knew that he preferred a loyal Gibbs to no Gibbs, even if that man happened to be the one who had lost him the Pearl in first place.

It scared him, the way she could read his thoughts. They were getting close again. Last time their relationship had gotten too intense, Anamaria had left him. She hadn't explained why, it hadn't been necessary. One morning, she had stood on deck with her small bundle of clothes. He'd given her her share of plunder, a small pouch he'd kept in his desk for a while, knowing that this moment would come. She had left without saying goodbye.

Jack stroked his goatee with two fingers. He wouldn't repeat the same mistake. The only reason there had been so much tension in the last days was because they depended on each other. This time, he'd retreat before he could do any further harm. Anamaria was a valuable crew member and he wouldn't lose her again.


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you for all of your reviews. It makes me happy to know that people are reading my story.

I'm not sure about this chapter, so I'd appreciate feedback. I had troubled describing the action. Is everything clear to you? If not, which parts did you not understand? Thank you!

* * *

With each minute that passed, Jack grew more impatient. On the outside, he remained calm, but inside, he was shaking. His ship anchored in the bay below him, just as he had expected. Barbossa was too predictable for his own good.

It seemed to take ages to lower a boat and row it to the shore. Two men accompanied Barbossa, crew members that had only recently joined the Pearl.

Jack threw a glance over his shoulder. Where was Anamaria? He had expected her to be back by now. Not that he needed her, but it would have been nice to know her behind him, just in case that something went wrong. Things had a tendency to go wrong lately.

Barbossa stepped on the shore and set out on his way up the cliffs. It was more a climb than a walk and it took long enough until he finally came up just a few feet away from Jack.

Jack drew his pistol slowly. The shade of the trees covered him well enough, there was no sign that Barbossa had seen him yet. It was a clear shot, no risks involved. Barbossa would be dead before he knew what hit him.

Two times he had stolen Jack's ship, two times he deserved to die for it.

Jack's finger played with the trigger. All he needed was to press it and the mutineer would drop dead.

Then why didn't he do it?

Valuable seconds passed. It was now or never, while Barbossa waited for his two crew members to come and join him.

A loud crack just behind Jack caught his attention. The pirate captain risked a glance over his shoulder to see Gibbs shrug apologetically. When he looked back in front of him, Barbossa had disappeared.

"Damn!"

There was no time to lose. Barbossa was alerted of his presence.

A high sound caught Jack's attention. The pirate captain dropped to the ground, just in time. A knife plunged into the tree he had been leaning against the fraction of a second earlier.

"Throwing knives now, are we?" Jack called out. This was not how he had expected his encounter with Barbossa to go. The mutineer should have been dead by now.

But instead, he laughed, a loud, hollow laugh that ran out over the cliff.

"Jack, you're way too predictable for your own good."

That was when the men came up between the bushes, four of them and each of them holding a sword.

Jack muttered a string of curses under his breath as he drew his sword. This was not his trap, it was Barbossa's, and he had walked straight into it.

At his side, he could hear the sound of Anamaria unsheathing her weapon.

"To the Pearl," Jack mumbled, his voice so low that only she could hear him.

"And once again, I had to watch you sail away with my ship," he called out in a louder voice, stepping away from Anamaria. He still held out his sword in front of him, just in case, but his stance betrayed that he didn't want to fight. "You know what they say about mutineers and the deepest circle of hell. I wonder where that takes you, having stolen my Pearl twice."

The four crewmembers – or rather former crewmembers – shifted uncomfortably.

"Having a bad conscience? You should. I've seen hell, it's even worse than death." Jack waved, coming almost close enough to the one in front of him to touch him with the tip of his sword. "Of course, there's the chance of redemption. Not that I believe in it, but you never know. It could save your life one day or another. Ask your Captain about it."

He paused just the tiniest moment to think, then continued, "Or maybe not, the only reason _he_ escaped his fate was because he was still needed by Calypso. Now who's to get you back from hell these days, I wonder?"

"If I remember correctly, Calypso was the only reason you came back as well." Finally, Barbossa stepped out of the jungle. "Now if you'd be so kind as to hand me over my charts so I can get on my way."

Jack threw his free hand up into the air. "I 'ave no idea what you're talking about."

He leaned forward to whisper to the man in front of him, "I'd be wary of him. Lousy captain, if he loses his charts."

"Aye, Jack, I think you know very well what I'm talking about."

A pistol. Barbossa had a damn pistol in his hand. Jack couldn't help but grin at the situation. Pirates, they always had to cheat.

"I do not," he said, slowly putting back his sword. "And unfortunately, I must be on my way."

He dropped to the ground, this time missing a shot just as deadly as the knife would have been. With a roll, he overcame the distance to the cliffs and disappeared over the edge.

He had known it would hurt. Tumbling down a cliff was no easy walk, especially not with the shots that rang out behind him. By tomorrow, he'd be bruised all over. But better bruised than dead.

Flailing his arms to distract the attackers, Jack climbed to his feet and ran the short distance to the longboat.

Gibbs was already waiting with his oars in his hand.

"Let's go!"

Another shot rang out, missing Jack by mere millimetres. He could feel the wind as the bullet grazed his coat. And it had been close to take off Anamaria's head. Way too close.

"Stop shooting, you'll get one of us killed."

It was time for Jack to draw his own pistol and fire a couple of shots. Nothing well-aimed, it wasn't possible at this distance, but enough to force Barbossa to go into hiding.

"Thanks for preparing a longboat. That makes getting back to the Pearl so much easier," he called to the shore.

One last shot rang after him, but they were already too far away.


	4. Chapter 4

"The best crew I could ever have," Jack informed Gibbs. "Nobody who seems suspicious. And nobody who's been on my crew before, unless we know we can trust them."

"Like Anamaria?"

"Aye, like Ana."

If Jack was to be honest, he doubted that he'd find any crew members at all in this place. Matthew Town wasn't exactly known as a haven for pirates.

Jack heard footsteps approach and pulled Gibbs behind a building. A group of Navy soldiers walked down the cobblestone street in front of them. Matthew Town was definitely not his preferred port. But what was he to do? He'd left most of the mutinous crew on a small spit of land, unable to sail with them anymore, and he needed replacement.

"There's bound to be a tavern somewhere around here."

Jack looked at Gibbs, but the older man shrugged. "Don't know. I've never been here before."

"Come on then. Down that direction."

The alley Jack headed through looked less respectable than the rest of the place. Oh, no doubt that everybody who lived here was as respectable and honest as dear William, but there were no more cobblestones. Just a trail of mud, and windows without glass. Houses that had seen better times. Each town had a corner like this one, you just had to find it.

"Over there?" Gibbs asked.

Jack followed Gibb's finger and his look came to rest on a building. The letters on the sign above the door had faded, but the drawing of a mug was still visible. He could hear muffled laughter ringing through the closed door.

"Over there," he confirmed, taking a careful glance to both sides before crossing the street. No navy in sight, not in this part of Matthew Town.

It always surprised Jack how many men could be found in a tavern after dark. Even in the most respectable town, ones under the firm control of the Navy, there was nothing the soldiers could do against the rum that was drowned every evening or the pleasurable company that showed up wherever there was a willing man.

"Let's make it quick," Jack said, heading for the counter and taking in the men around him. Most of them didn't look like pirates. Most of them didn't even look like sailors. That one over there, he was surrounded by a cloud of smell that only tanners carried with them. And the man at the counter, next to Jack, looked more like a servant than anything else in his fine clothes.

"What's your master going to do if he sees you here, I wonder?" Jack asked, chuckling to himself as the man startled. He was young still, maybe the age of William, and his eyes were bloodshot from the alcohol.

"I don't care," he slurred, leaning dangerously close to Jack. "I don't care whatever happens to me."

Jack rose his eyebrows, pushing the boy away from him. Maybe he used a bit too much force and the next thing he knew, the lad was laying on the floor next to him.

"Gibbs," Jack called out, patting the now empty seat next to him. "I got you a seat by the counter."

He ordered two mugs of rum while the older man made his way to him. The look on his face said it all.

"Now did you find anybody?"

Gibbs shook his head gravely. "One sailor here, from what I gather. Though he seems to know what he's doing and would be willing to join us."

"You won't find many seamen here," the barkeeper interrupted, placing two mugs in front of the men. "It's rare that anyone docks here – anyone of your kind at least. Although you're now the second this week."

"Is this so?" Jack asked, not really interested in what the barkeeper was saying.

"Aye. Captain Smith, he was called. Wanted some replacement for that wench he'd left in Tortuga, though I told him he'd find none. Pleasurable company, they may be," the barkeeper looked at a girl in a deep red dress who installed herself in a costumer's lap, "but none of them crazy enough to leave on a pirate ship. Told him he should have kept his wench, they're rare to find. Doubt he'll get one like that Anamaria."

Jack spit out a mouthful of rum, spraying it all over Gibb's face.

"What did you say?"

"Me said he won't get a wench on his ship. Not one like the one he had before. 'Specially not since he was a nasty fellow."

"No, no," Jack interrupted with a wave of his hand. "The name. You mentioned some Anamaria?"

"Oh yeah. That's what his previous wench was called. Told him he should have kept her, if she was good an' all and on his ship. Here in Matthew Town, our women are honourable. Won't leave with a pirate and…"

But Jack wasn't listening anymore. He drowned his mug of rum.

"Let's go," he told Gibbs. "Take that sailor with you, and him to."

He nudged the boy on the floor with the tip of his boot. He knew a desperate soul when he saw one and as much as he hated the thought of having to teach him all about sailing, a inexperienced working hand was better than no working hand at all.

However, Gibbs and that other sailor would have to bring the lad.

For Jack, there were more urgent matters than finding a crew right now.

* * *

He found Anamaria in the crow's nest, right where he had left her.

"Everything calm?" he asked, sitting down next to her. The island was a huge shadow stretching out before them. If Jack hadn't known about Matthew Town behind the hill, he would have believed it to be uninhabited.

Anamaria nodded. "Calm like nowhere else. How did it go in town?"

Jack shrugged. "It's not exactly a pirate port."

She chuckled softly next to him. Jack turned to look at her. Moonlight illuminated her face and he watched her carefully as he spoke up again.

"Though there was one here not even a week ago. Captain Smith."

He had to concentrate on keeping his voice casual. Anamaria seemed as relaxed as ever, but on a closer look, he could see her hands ball up to fists.

"That has to be some lousy captain. I mean, which respectable pirate calls themselves Smith?"

Anamaria had always been so good at hiding her feelings. Even now, she looked perfectly at ease as she turned towards him.

"Must be an awful captain, indeed. I hope the crew you found are better."

And she'd always been good at changing the subject.

Jack shifted next to her, spotting three figures coming out of the woods. The one in the middle had to be the young lad, the others seemed to be dragging him along.

"Well, they're certainly something," Jack muttered.

"Something indeed." Ana's tone let him know that she had spotted the three as well. "Jack, you can't be serious. How are we going to make it to the Fountain of Youth with them? We need a crew, a real one."

"They are real. Look, there's not much here for us. I know that you've been working constantly the last two days. We'll stop again on Long Island and we'll see then if we need more crew members."

The more there were, the higher the chance of a mutiny. Jack didn't like that idea at all. He knew that his crew was exhausted, but those two and himself included, they were now nine on the ship. That was a good size, wasn't it?

"I even got you an apprentice," he said, turning to Anamaria with a smirk. "He reminded me somewhat of the whelp. I'm sure the two of you are going to have fun while you teach him the basics."

"Oh no, you didn't." Anamaria jumped to her feet and Jack had to crane his neck to look at the finger she pointed into his face. "You're not going to make me babysit some stuck up boy."

"Not babysitting. Teaching." Jack's grin widened. He loved seeing Anamaria all riled up, even if it meant that he had to watch out.

But he was prepared and caught her hand in mid-air. "And there's no need to slap me, he's on board of the ship and I won't change my mind about it. Come on, let's go. I want to bring some distance between us and the island before we go to sleep."


	5. Chapter 5

The sun had set behind the horizon a while ago, leaving a dark blue sky behind it. Jack loved this moment. Night had begun, but the day was not completely over yet. Slowly, all colour drained from the world until there was nothing but the secure blanket of darkness left.

"Lower anchor," he cried out to his crew. "And Ana, go and get me some rum."

He ran his fingers over the dark wood of the helm for the last time of the day. Tomorrow, they would set sail early. Now it was time to rest.

He walked down to his cabin and removed his boots. For what had to be the hundredth time in the last week, he took his precious charts from a drawer and unrolled them.

The Fountain of Youth.

His index finger trailed the ink that marked their way. They would have to cover some distance on the shore, not exactly territory that Jack liked very much. But it would be worth it. Immortality. Sailing the seas forever.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," he called out, rolling up the charts with a fluid motion of his hand and placing them back in his drawer.

"Funny how you always knock these days," he said with a chuckle, turning to Anamaria.

Had her arms not been crossed in front of her chest already, balancing five or six bottles, she would have moved them there. Her eyes threw daggers at Jack.

"Oh, come on, luv. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy my handsome self all naked."

Her eyes narrowed. It was probably a good thing she carried the rum. Jack feared that otherwise, she would have slapped him already. What a shame. Having her run into him while he had been changing was one of his favourite memories. Probably the only time he had seen Anamaria flustered.

"Are you planning on getting drunk tonight?" Jack changed the subject, deciding not to push his luck too far, and letting his gaze travel to the bottles while speaking.

Anamaria exhaled audibly and lowered the rum on Jack's desk. "I'm just not in the mood to keep running below deck to get you more."

Without asking, she helped herself to a bottle of rum.

"We're not sailing through the night." It was pronounced as a statement, not a question, yet, her eyebrows were raised in a questioning manner as she looked at Jack.

"No," the captain answered, uncorking a bottle for himself. "I wouldn't want to work my crew to death. Not while we're still mortal."

He realised where this conversation was going and decided he really didn't want to spoil his evening by discussing crews and lost ships with Anamaria.

Before she could get a word out, he added, "So how's the lad doing? Thomas? I watched him today, he seems quite capable."

"Now that he isn't hungover anymore, yes. He talks highly of you, said you were his rescuer for taking him along."

Was it Jack's imagination or did Ana's face actually soften when she talked about the boy? The captain softly shook his head. It had to be a trick of light, the flames dancing too much for him to be able to tell.

"He wouldn't mind working 24 hours for you," she added.

"Now that's the right attitude." Jack took a large gulp of rum and the smirk vanished from his face. "Look, luv, we both know where you want to take this conversation and we both know I'm not in the mood for that. So why let us ruin this evening and talk about something we don't enjoy and get all in a bad mood, if we could also be talking about something more pleasant that we want to talk about and then be in a good mood?"

Anamaria didn't reply. She just raised her bottle to her lips. Even with her head tilted backward, she still glared at Jack.

"Good, now that we have that out of the way, why don't you tell me what you're going to do once we find the Fountain of Youth?"

"I don't know."

"But you must have some plans."

"No."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "And that, my dear, was far too quick to not be a lie. Come on, you must have an idea for once we're immortal."

Anamaria studied him for a long moment. When she finally looked away, it was to take another large swig of rum.

"Being immortal is not bad for a start, don't ye think? You should know, seeing as you've already been dead."

"Touché." Jack touched his heart and smirked.

But deep inside, he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to his Anamaria and since when she had become so full of secrets.

* * *

The first thing Jack noticed when he woke up the following morning was the headache. A skull-splitting, blinding pain that took hold of him the moment he became conscious.

The second thing was the object next to him. It felt warm and alive and …

Anamaria?

Jack momentarily forgot to breathe as his eyes flew open. It was indeed Anamaria, here in his bed. She was so close to him, whether she had come to him or because he had drawn her closer with his arm that still lay over her upper body, he didn't know.

All he knew was that she looked far too peaceful for the Anamaria full of secrets.

And that he was in trouble.

She was wearing clothes, at least a shirt, her shoulders were covered. Jack reluctantly removed his arm from her body to feel his own breeches. Still on, as well as a shirt. That was a good sign.

How had they both ended up in his bed? The previous night was foggy in Jack's mind, hidden behind a curtain of rum.

Bloody hell! He'd never have that much to drink again when she was close.

Jack stood up, carefully and reluctantly pulling himself away from Anamaria. His body felt cold without her warmth next to him.

Now that he stood, the headache set in again. Jack had to suppress a groan, the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up and see him standing so close to the bed.

Maybe he should go outside and pretend that none of this had ever happened. Judging by the number of bottles on his floor, Anamaria must have had a hell lot to drink and chances were high that she didn't remember the night either.

But what would she think if she woke up in his bed with him nowhere in sight? She could too easily come to the conclusion that he had been lying next to her all night.

Jack briefly thought about carrying her down to her cabin, but rejected the idea immediately. He didn't want to wake her up and with his head feeling like it'd split in two, he wasn't sure he was able to carry her all the way down there.

Finally, he settled for his armchair. Let her think that he had slept there while she had been in his bed. That wasn't too close and reduced the chances of her coming to wrong conclusions. Because the last thing Jack needed was for Anamaria to run away again.

Bugger!

He really should have stayed away from her. Hadn't he decided not to come too close anymore only a few days ago? Then why was it so difficult? And why did the thought that she may leave bother him that much?

Well, first of all, because she was an excellent sailor, Jack answered his own question while settling in the armchair.

Second, because she was one of the few that he could actually trust. Anamaria would not betray him. She had come back for him in Port Royal, had given up her position as a captain to give him back the Black Pearl.

There were more reasons than the two obvious ones.

Jack liked having her around. He felt comfortable when she was close, reassured that he could read her, even if she carried around secrets lately. She was just as good as guessing what was on his mind and even though it scared the living daylights out of Jack, he wouldn't have her any other way.

The idea that she could leave him again, now that he had gotten her back on his Pearl, was unbearable.

Jack sighed and closed his eyes. If he had known how much trouble this woman would be, he never would have stolen her boat.

* * *

A soft groan woke Jack up later that morning. He half opened his left eye to see Anamaria sitting on the edge of his bed, holding her head in her hands.

"Morning, luv," he whispered, the voice feeling too loud in his pounding head.

Anamaria rubbed her face and looked at Jack. Her eyes were bloodshot, but he doubted that his own looked any better.

She groaned and stood up, steadying herself on the wall as she walked to his cabin door. Just before leaving, she turned around to look at him again.

"Morning, Jack."

Then she disappeared outside, leaving her captain to wonder if her behaviour was a good or a bad sign.


End file.
